AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No. I have a finger on the button.” The call disconnects and Signio sits back. His mouth opens and closes a few times, but nothing comes out.
“He’s watching my mother’s house on the outskirts of Medellin.”
“You know?”
“I do.”
“And what is your plan?”
“At the moment?” He nods, and I pull out a simple blade from my pocket and place it on the table. His brown eyes are on the all-black matte handle, shifting in his seat as perspiration dots his upper lip. It’s almost comical how someone can go from calm to complete and utter fear within the span of a few seconds. “I’m going to make you count to seven as I repay you for marring Solimar’s skin.”
“What?” Signio’s voice trembles, eyes shifting around the room. They stay just a few beats longer on my torture chair. “I didn’t…I would never—”
“So you don’t remember breaking her skin by digging your nails in while at the gala last night? How you manhandled her?”
“Don’t kill me.”
“I’m not…” he breathes out a sigh of relief “…yet.” No sooner has the last word passed through my lips when two of my guards grab his arms and force him face down, bent over the wooden top. Signio struggles. Cries. I’m not moved by his pleading. “You didn’t listen.”
“Please. I’m sorry.”
“So you do remember?”
“No.” At his lie, I stand and walk around behind him and place my blade at the base of his spine beneath his neck. “Okay…maybe. It was an accident.” Another lie. Motherfucking idiot.
Pushing the tip deeper, a small drop of blood appears as I slide lower and pause mid-back. “Is that the version you want to stick with?”
“Por favor.”
“The truth,” I spit out through clenched teeth, forcing the blade in a little deeper. “Be a man and confess your sins.”
“I hate her for not wanting me.” It’s spoken low, almost indiscernible.
“What was that?” A soft pull and the blade cuts lower, the opening another inch longer.
“Please stop.”
“Say it. Why were your hands on her?”
“Because I hate her for not wanting me!” he yells out, tears slipping from his eyes and onto the tabletop.
“Thank you.”
“Will you let me go now?” Signio is shaking, failing at moving away from my blade.
“No.” Pulling the knife from his back, I lean down close to his ear and smile. “That’s number one.” The second and third cuts are to the left of the original on his spine and aren’t are small. They’re easily five inches long and bleeding profusely, but not deep enough to cause any serious problems. “You ready for number four?”
“I’ll never go near her again.”
“That wasn’t my question…” Dragging the tip across to his right side, I slice another jagged line down to the top of his ribs “…parce.”
“No more.”
“Count the next one. What number are we on.” Signio doesn’t respond, and I hum. “If you lost count, I could always start again. One?”
“No! No.” His eyes snap shut and his bottom lip trembles. “Y-you’re on number five of s-seven.”
“Good boy.” Number five and six are small and very shallow, just deep enough for a drop or four to pool at the center with the other lacerations. “You ready for the last one?”
